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Showing posts with label Peloponnesian League. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peloponnesian League. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 18, 2024

A Spartan Philosopher: Chilon the Wise

It may surprise many modern readers that Plato, writing a history of philosophy in the 4th Century BC, claimed that all early philosophers were “imitators, lovers and disciples of Spartan education.”  Furthermore, the seven “wise men” that Plato considered the fathers of philosophy included two Lacedaemonians, one of which was Spartiate: Chilon the Wise. In the 5th century BC, it had become common to speak about “seven” wise men, whose selection varied from writer to writer so that a total of 17 are actually named on one list or another.  
Significantly, Chilon is always among the seven.


So just who was Chilon of Sparta?
Based on the stories told about Chilon, which include personally meeting the famous writer of fables, Aesop, and Hippokrates, the father of the Athenian tyrant Peisistratos, historians conclude that Chilon lived in the first half of the 6th century BC, or – one might say – in the Golden Age of Sparta.  Furthermore, he is said to have been an ephor during the 56. Olympiad, or between 556 and 554 BC, by which time, the sources say, he was “very old.” Modern historians such as Conrad Stibbe suggest he was somewhere between 60 and 75 when he was elected ephor in ca. 555 BC.

Chilon was a Spartiate, but apparently not from a “leading” or royal family. The fact that his descendants married into both royal houses, however, is an indication of just how highly he was regarded by his contemporaries and admired by subsequent generations of Spartans.  Particularly significant is the fact that a great-granddaughter of Chilon was selected by a later college of ephors as the bride for the then childless Agiad King Anaxandridas.  Anaxandridas had been married for many years to his niece, who appeared to be barren, and the ephors after futilely urging the king to set aside his wife and take a new wife, convinced him to take a second wife.  This wife (who is nameless in Herodotus) promptly became pregnant and gave birth to a male child, who later became one of Sparta’s most controversial kings, King Cleomenes I.  What is striking about this particular marriage is less that the college of ephors would put forward the name of a girl descended from one of their own predecessors, than that Anaxandridas, who would have been a reigning king at the time Chilon was an ephor, would accept one of Chilon's descendents as a worthy bride. The importance of this fact is best understood when we remember that Chilon is credited by ancient and modern historians with raising the status of the ephorate to a body almost as powerful as the kings. 
In any case, Conrad Stibbe in his excellent work on archaic Sparta, Das Andere Sparta (Mainz: 1996), credits Chilon with conceiving of the Peloponnesian League.  As he points out, throughout Sparta’s previous history, complete subjugation of a conquered people followed successful Spartan conquests. This was true for the conquest of the heartland of Lacedaemon, the Eurotas Valley in the ninth century and for the conquest of Messenia in the second half of the seventh century.
 Yet after a bitter war with Tegea during the first half of the sixth century BC, in which Sparta suffered at least one humiliating defeat resulting in the enslavement of Spartiate hoplites, Sparta chose a different path. Following a decisive victory over Tegea under the leadership of King Anaxandridas, Sparta made the revolutionary decision not to subjugate and occupy Tegea, but rather to form a defensive alliance with its defeated foe. This course was unprecedented in Greek history at the time. (Note: My novel The Olympic Charioteer deals with this period of Spartan history.)  Furthermore, the alliance with Tegea was not a one-off event, but rather signaled a completely new Spartan foreign policy that was pursued throughout the rest of the century. Under both Anaxandridas and his sons, Sparta built up her power and prestige not through direct conquest but through the formation of a system of alliances, first on the Peloponnese (under Anaxandridas and Cleomenes) and with all of Hellas under Leonidas.

Yet while Chilon sought peace and alliances with Sparta’s democratic neighbors, he was according to ancient tradition together with Anaxandridas the driving force behind a series of military actions undertaken by Sparta to depose tyrants in Sikyon, Samos, and Athens. The fact that Chilon and Anaxandridas are mentioned as working together to depose the tyrants is significant because it suggests a joint policy – something that makes the later marriage of Anaxandridas to a great-granddaughter of Chilon more understandable. 
Interestingly, Chilon is described in Herodotus as a seer and Chilon’s first act of extraordinary wisdom was advice that, had it been followed, would have spared Athens the tyranny of Peisistratos in the first place.  Chilon’s wisdom was thus associated with Sparta’s opposition to tyranny.  According to legend, when the father of Peisistratos, Hippokrates, was in Olympia, he received a sign from the Gods.  A cauldron full of sacrificial meat boiled over without a fire being lit under it.  Although Hippokrates recognized that this could only be a message from the gods, he could not interpret it, and turned to Chilon for advice.  Chilon told him not to marry and if he was already married to disown any son he already had.
 
The Spartan Chilon was according to ancient tradition also a contemporary of the fable-writer Aesop.  According to legend, Chilon told the former slave that Zeus’ job was to “humiliate the mighty and rise up the humble.” While this was clearly a reference to Aesop’s own fate, it was a strikingly revolutionary statement nonetheless – heralding the Christian notion that “the meek shall inherit the earth.”

Likewise with respect to women, Chilon set revolutionary standards of behavior that were uniquely Spartan.  While the Athenian philosopher Socrates showed utter contempt for the intellect of his wife, refusing to even take leave of her after he was condemned to death, Chilon was depicted on his grave sitting side-by-side with his wife. Even more impressive, one of his daughters, Chilonis, was recognized by name as a disciple of the philosphoer Pythagoras. In short, while the Athenians contended that women were permanent children with brains incapable of developing rational thought,[i] Sparta’s greatest philosopher encouraged his daughter to study under the greatest of his contemporaries.
But it was hardly for his attitude toward women or former slaves that Chilon attained so much fame among his fellow Greeks. Rather, Chilon was admired and honored by subsequent generations of Greek philosophers and their Roman and modern admirers primarily for his “wisdom.” Chilon was the author of some 600 verses familiar to the ancients that they admired greatly. Unfortunately, none of these have survived into the present, at least none have been identified as the work of Chilon. More famous, however, were three – typically Laconic – sayings that were carved over the entrance to the Delphic oracle and attributed to Chilon. Let me close this brief essay on Chilon by quoting him.  I think many would find his advice relevant even today:

Sponsorship brings misfortune.

Nothing in excess.

Know thyself.
[i] Good sources on Athenian attitudes for women can be found in the Sarah Pomeroy’s Goddesses, Whores, Waves and Slaves, (New York: 1975), Sue Blundell’s Women in Ancient Greece, (London:1995) and in the chapter on “Citizen Women in Athens,” in Anton Powell’s Athens and Sparta: Constructing Greek Political and Social History from 478 BC, (Portland, Oregon: 1988).

Tuesday, November 15, 2016

Mycenea - An Excerpt from "A Peerless Peer"



One of Sparta’s often overlooked diplomatic victories was prying Mycenae and Tyrens out of Argos’ sphere of influence and into her own. Little is known about this diplomatic success beyond the fact that it followed the Spartan victory at Sepeia and lasted through Leonidas’ deployment to Thermopylae. In my novel “A Peerless Peer” I provide a plausible scenario of how and why Mycenae was -- under Leonidas’ reign -- a Spartan ally.





Mycenae. Agamemnon’s city. It crowned a hill that nestled against the backdrop of the majestic peaks of Mount Zara and Profitis Ilias. Deep ravines encased it, and the natural slopes leading up to the sheer walls were steep and treacherous. Mycenae, “rich in gold,” was also a nearly impregnable citadel.

Of course, it was not Agamemnon’s city anymore. That had been burned and plundered and razed in the reign of Orestes’ son Tisamenus. Somewhere nearby there must be ancient graves, perhaps still filled with the treasure of Troy. But the survivors of that final catastrophe had not been many; the descendants of Agamemnon’s army had submitted to the invading Dorians and intermarried with them. This was a new city, built upon the ruins of Agamemnon’s capital some three hundred years ago, and it was neither particularly large, nor rich, [but it was an ally of Argos]…

Leonidas hadn’t a clue what form of government this obscure, secondary city had, except that it was unlikely to be a monarchy. He presumed it was also less democratic than Athens, and that made it an oligarchy of some sort. At all events, he was facing ten old men.

“You wished to speak with us, Spartan?”

“Who are you?”

“The Governing Council of Mycenae. And you?”

“I am the commanding officer of the Lacedaemonian army surrounding this city. My orders are to subdue the Argolid and render it incapable of threatening us for another generation. Those orders could be interpreted to mean I should seize and raze Mycenae.” Leonidas was watching the faces of the men opposite him very carefully. He had the impression he was not telling them anything they didn’t already know. They, too, had spies.

“So why are you here, Spartan? Do you want us to surrender our freedom without a fight?” The man who said this was trembling slightly as he spoke. Leonidas considered him. He was not trembling from fear. Possibly it was just a frailty of age—or the power of his emotions. His eyes were milky with cataracts, but he sat very straight, wrapped in a soft woolen himation with a wide border of mythical beasts in rusts and greens.
“I know little of your city, but I was told you pay homage to Argos.”

“Argos takes from us one-third of our olive-oil harvest, one-fourth of our wine, 100 head of cattle, 200 sheep, and 166 goats each year—and it led 116 of our finest young men to their deaths at Sepeia.” That did not sound like a declaration of loyalty.

“And what do you get in return?”

There was a long pause. The old man just sat with tears dripping slowly down his face, and finally one of the other men admitted, “Nothing.” The man seemed to think about it and then added, “Nothing at all.”

“You call that freedom?” Leonidas asked.

Another man spoke up, more hotly than the other two. “We still live by our own laws. We have our temples, our festivals and customs. We can sacrifice at the graves of our fathers. Our daughters go intact to their marriage beds, and our sons learn the use of spear and sword.”

“That is true in Tegea, Corinth, and Elis as well.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” the hot-headed man demanded; but the older man stirred himself and hushed his younger colleague. He focused his not entirely blind eyes hard on Leonidas while explaining to his impatient colleague, “Tegea, Corinth, and Elis are allies of Lacedaemon.”

“We don’t require tribute,” Leonidas reminded him.

“Just obedience. To follow wherever your kings lead.” Yet another member of the council spoke up.

“If a majority in the League Assembly approves,” Leonidas reminded them. Leonidas was acutely aware that the changes in League leadership imposed upon his brother and characterized as “humiliating” by Leotychidas, Brotus, and others might prove decisive in avoiding bloodshed today. He pressed the point. “Your vote would be equal to ours.”

The Mycenaeans exchanged glances and then put their heads together, to whisper among themselves. One cut the others short and asked the Spartans to step out into the street while they discussed the proposal.

On the porch, Oliantus murmured, “Are you sure you have authority to offer this?”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“Only the ephors can sign treaties, and the Assembly has to ratify.”

“Do you think they would reject an application by Mycenae to join the League?”

“You never know what the Assembly will decide,” Oliantus warned. “Especially not when Leotychidas and his clique start their whisper campaigns!”

The Mycenaeans, however, were finished with their internal discussion and called the Spartans back inside. The spokesman asked, “Are those your terms? That we become an ally of Lacedaemon?”

“That you break with Argos and join our allies, yes,” Leonidas clarified.

The Mycenaeans again looked at one another, and then the spokesman asked, “What is your name, young man?”

“Does that matter?”

“It does. You seem very young to have so much authority, and you offer us something that seems quite unimaginable. We came here expecting demands of abject submission. We thought you would want us to hand over our daughters and humiliate ourselves in front of you. We thought you would take away our youths for your own pleasures and demand tribute that would leave us nothing at all but the naked walls of our homes.”

“You were wrong.” Leonidas insisted.

“But how can we know this is not just a trick—a way to make us let down our defenses and open our gates to your brutal troops?”

“I am Leonidas, son of Anaxandridas, brother of Cleomenes. I am a direct descendant of Herakles through my father and my mother both. My word is good. And I give it to you.” It frightened Leonidas a little to realize how much he enjoyed saying that—and it surprised him even more how effective it was.